Yin 12: Duty, Sacrifice, Loyalty

Another speedy (not really) backstory and new character introduced. I'm very cruel.

What a glorious sight the Five Sacred Mountains of China were.

 

The quintet continued onwards with their trek, moving beneath the blazing glare of the sun. Takamura led the group, as calm and graceful as ever, her golden kimono billowing majestically in the stiff breeze. Her hair was down, gliding behind her, the kiseru lit once more and grasped between her teeth. Her hands were lost beneath the folds of her joined sleeves. Haruhiko followed, grumbling inaudibly under his breath, and Kyo caught snippets of his nigh-silent tirade: phrases like "retired old man" and "suicide mission" and "must have a death wish" were more audible than the rest. Kyo was beginning to think the irritable old man complained simply for the sake of it.

 

Following the Dragon of Death was the Dragon of Life, Felipe. Kyo couldn't help but thinking about their titles, and the symbolism of 'life' following 'death'. Maybe he was just reading into things that weren't there, but he thought it was pretty cool. The Puerto Rican man seemed to be lost in thought, gazing skyward as he followed those before him. Kyo's eyes flickered to the second to last person in the line, Sonic. His blond hair stirred surprisingly lightly with the persistent wind the group trudged against; perhaps it was because it wasn’t long enough to do so. His hands were in his pockets, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual, and his black sunglasses, usually nestled in his hair, rested on the bridge of his nose.

 

Sonic turned back to glance at the youngest companion, eyes hidden behind his shades. He smiled apologetically, noticing quickly how difficult it was for Kyo to breathe. The air had thinned out considerably as they rose in elevation, and the oxygen with it. "Please try to bear with it, Kyo-san," he said, as polite as ever. "Gomen nasai. I wish there was something I could do to help you out." Kyo was gasping quietly for breath, and Sonic knew it couldn't have been easy on him. "You get used to it. Believe it or not, Haruhiko-sama, Takamura-sama, and Felipe-sama weren't able to travel here as easily as they can now years ago.

 

Kyo had to admit, he thought it was rather odd for a non-Japanese man to speak phrases from his native language. At the same time, however, he considered it a polite and interested attempt to learn about Japanese culture. Kyo knew he was able to speak so fluently because, as Haruhiko's assistant for years, as well as living in Japan, he had been required to; he had told him as much when they had been talking a day ago after Takamura had asked him to leave. Trying to ignore his difficulty breathing, Kyo thought he could escape in his thoughts, as Felipe seem to have done.

 

 

Kyo huffed, shuffling dispiritedly out of the bar. Sonic appeared at the door moments later, exiting the tavern to keep him company. Kyo glanced about: empty wine bottles, plastic bags floating about in the deserted alleyway, gritty walls and a maze of dead ends. All in all, a seedy alleyway for a seedy tavern. 'How fitting,' he thought irritably.

 

He slumped against the wall facing the door they had just exited, glaring at it in annoyance. Sonic chose to stand beside the door, so as to let Kyo face him. He had his hands in his pockets, one foot against the wall for support and a demure smile on his handsome face.

 

"You'll have to forgive them, Kyo-san. They are dealing with sensitive topics, ones that I very much doubt you're ready to hear. Some things are best not leaked, nor overheard.

 

"Then why a bar?" he asked, incredulous at Sonic's explanation of the Dragons' behaviour. "It's filled with people, surely someone would overhear?"

 

Sonic chuckled. "Only if it's quiet. At first glance, a bar would be the last place one would think to discuss matters of importance. After all, there are those of questionable character who tend to gather in such places. But upon closer scrutiny, one realizes that a bar is perhaps safe for the very reason many think it unsafe." Kyo looked nonplussed, and Sonic continued, clearing up his point further. "A bar is filled with people, and as such, loud. They're unlikely to be overheard, with so much chatter buzzing about. The same could not be said in a solitary location, where the quiet atmosphere would serve to betray their secret conference much more easily."

 

"Oh," Kyo said, realizing the wisdom of his logic. "I hadn't thought about it like that, but it makes a ton of sense."

 

"Most people don't look past the first glance." Sonic turned his head skyward, gazing at the shimmering stars. "And it's because of this mentality that they miss out on beauty beneath the surface. Some things need a second glance to be truly appreciated. And that's a testament to its beauty, isn't it? So stunning that it made you do a double take and look back to appreciate it once more."

 

Kyo looked up at the sky as well. Now that he thought about it, he rarely looked up at the sky to appreciate it. He used to, back when he was a child. His father had left them at a young age, so early that Kyo couldn't even remember his face. He had had to look at photos of his father, and force himself to memorize and recognize him from that. Sometimes, he questioned if that man even was his father, but he couldn't exactly contest it.

 

He often questioned what made his father leave them; why his father no longer wished to interact or contact his family. Had it been Kyo's fault? Had his birth been too much for his father? Everything was alright when his older brother Kenji was born, his father was still with his brother and mother. Kyo had been born a few years after, and soon after his father had deserted them.

 

Sometimes, when he was all alone with just his thoughts, Kyo resented himself. He was convinced, certain beyond a doubt, that his arrival into the family had been the ultimate factor in his father's desertion. Simply by virtue of being born, Kyo had deprived his brother and mother of the most important man in their life, and the chance to keep that man in their life. Perhaps his father had thought he could handle a wife and a son, but not a second child. Not a second son, apparently, and Kyo sometimes wondered if it had been different. Would his father had left him just as simply as he had if Kyo had been a female? Was his gender in any way a factor in his father's desertion? Had he been expecting a daughter, content with a single son, and left when he had turned up instead? Or was his entire existence, regardless of gender, the problem?

 

Try as he might, Kyo couldn't help but feel some resentment towards his father. As much as he loathed himself, he equally loathed his father. Why hadn't his father been a man and taken responsibility for his children? Why hadn't he just stayed, owning up to his responsibility as the father? Why had he deprived his son of the chance of meeting him, knowing him, of recognizing his face without having to refer to pictures as the only method of confirmation? What kind of man abandoned his family, his wife, his sons? He hadn't abandoned his mother when Kenji had been born, so why had he done so for Kyo? And so the cycle of hatred began, for both Kyo himself and his thoughts on his father.

 

He remembered why he hadn't stared at the sky as he had done years ago. Back then, young as he was, he still harboured some misguided belief that his father would return to him. Hadn't his father been curious to see what his son was like, to meet him? Wasn't he as curious about his son as Kyo was about him? Kyo's mother would take Kenji and him out at night, to a small meadow with a clear view of the sky, pointing at different stars and exclaiming the histories behind each.

 

"Those stars have a special legend associated with them," she would say, pointing at specific stars. "Come here, Kenji, Kyo, look where I am pointing. You see those there?" She pointed to two stars, one white and the other red. "Those stars are the Genji Boshi and the Heike Boshi. These stars were named after two clans, the Minamoto clan and the Taira clan.  The Minamoto were also known as the Genji, and the Taira were also known as the Heike.

 

"For decades, the Minamoto and Taira clans had conflict, both attempting to dominate the other and be in the good graces of the Imperial court. Ultimately, their feud culminated in what is now referred to as the Genpei war. The Taira fought under banners of red, and the Minamoto battled under banners of white, for those were the traditional family colours associated with each clan. The peaceful and artistic Heian era was finally brought to a close with an outbreak of war between the two clans.

 

"Blood and betrayal had been suffered by both sides. In the end, it was the Minamoto clan that stood victorious in a decisive win. However, despite the actions of some, both sides had displayed an extraordinary amount of bravery and loyalty, and thus the colours of red and white came to have a special significance in Japan, even to this day. Do you not see those very colours on our flag? Duty, sacrifice, and loyalty. Red for the Taira and white for the Minamoto, displaying such basic values that even the heavens will attest to such bravery, blazing brightly in the sky for all to see."

 

As a child, Kyo had looked upon those stars, the Genji Boshi and Heike Boshi, and remembered what they stood for: duty, sacrifice, loyalty. He was certain that his father would come back, that his father would recognize his children and wife as his duty, those that he owed his loyalty to, those whom he would sacrifice for. Yet that never came to be.

 

He had long since stopped looking at the stars, chiding himself on being foolish enough to believe in such a childish dream. He was a man himself now, nearly twenty, and had no need of a father. His mother had done a fine enough job without her husband, and Kyo saw no reason that he should stroll into his life now. For all he knew, his father could be dead.

 

Even though he didn't believe in the Genji Boshi and Heike Boshi stars symbolizing duty, sacrifice and loyalty, sometimes he couldn't help but glance up at the sky and question what if. What if his father had stayed, what if his father returned, what if there was a real, legitimate, concrete and logically-sound reason for why he abandoned his family? Kyo didn't know if such a reason could exist, but sometimes he half-hoped it was, and that his father would come back into his life. He wanted to see his father with his own eyes, to look at his face and into his father's eyes, and see from whence he had came.

 

His thoughts shifted to his ex-girlfriend, Kikyou. He had been trying to forget her, to get over her and get his heart back together again, but his unrelenting thoughts about her in the dead of the night seemed hell-bent on throwing a wrench in that plan. Kyo would stay up late into the night, his thoughts alternating between Kikyou’s breaking up with him and Hatsumomo’s kidnapping. He would feel bad that he was obsessing over Kikyou’s behaviour, something that was inexplicable to him, when he should’ve been worrying about Hatsumomo’s safety. He hadn’t known her for too long, but already he missed her terribly; what kind of girl was she to have such a deep impact on him so quickly? He found himself sometimes smiling to himself at the brashness and disregard for social expectations that Hatsumomo had. It was almost as if she knew her behaviour was crude and unconventional, especially in regards to sharing a room with a man at night, but she didn’t care. He could almost hear her voice calling out to him, teasingly calling him “Kyo-kun~” and giggling her coy amusement.

 

Each time he gazed at the sky, however, it was a depressing reminder of the reality of things: his father left him, left Kenji, left their mother, and never bothered to contact or explain. His father had abandoned him, and so, too, should Kyo abandon any hopes of seeing or meeting him for the first time.

 

He told himself it didn't matter, however. He had his mother. He had Kenji. Kenji showed him how to be a man, and his mother told him how to treat women and respect them properly. He had managed to survive without the father that never cared, the father that never did a single thing for him aside from bring him into this world and leave him to question his existence. Kyo did it more often than he'd have liked to admit.

 

He turned his gaze downwards, disenchanted with the heavens, instead opting to study the man before him. Sonic was still gazing towards the heavens, a small smile on his face, seemingly brimming with some secret only he knew. Sonic wasn't that much older than Kyo, perhaps four or five years older than him at the maximum, and he was curious about why and how Sonic came to work under Haruhiko. He waited, wondering if the older man would glance down at him and question his silence, but no such luck. Sonic seemed to be absorbed in watching the heavens.

 

"If you've got a question, I'd be happy to answer." Kyo was startled; he hadn't realized that Sonic was aware of his studying of him, and he hadn't even taken his gaze off the star-lit night sky.

 

"I-I was just curious...how are you acquainted with Haruhiko-san?"

 

"Haruhiko-sama," Sonic corrected gently, gaze still skyward, "and I aren't really acquaintances, I would venture to say. I've known him for several years, ever since I was a child, far younger than you."

 

"Gomen. How did you get to know Haruhiko-sama?"

 

"In a rather unfortunate series of events, he found me." His voice became light, reminiscent. His mesmerizing, turquoise eyes seemed to flick amongst the stars, never focusing upon one for too long. "My mother and father took me on vacation to Japan. We had been saving up for a long time; we weren't exactly well off, you see. It took years of planning and saving, years that stretched out before even my birth, but one day they had saved enough.

 

"I had never had a vacation in my life, and nor had my parents. This was a very exciting, well-earned, looked-forward-to trip that my parents had assured me would be "life-changing!" As any child, of course, I was incredibly excited by the prospect of going on vacation. My parents had already chosen a destination long before I was born. They had always been interested in Japanese culture and mythology, you see, and this had influenced my mother's career as a high school teacher, instructing the students in Japanese. My father was an aspiring chef, but for the moment, he worked in kitchens as a dishwasher. He had dreams of becoming a line cook, and then eventually a chef, owner of his own restaurant. He was also interested in Japanese cuisine."

 

He paused then, his brilliant blue eyes simply staring at a single star this time.

 

"We had just arrived at the Tokyo, departing from the Haneda Airport. Night had fallen, clouds not visible, stars shining brightly, breeze blowing softly, a night very much like this one. My mother served as our translator, looking for a hotel we could spend the night at before a day full of sight-seeing and cuisine-sampling. My father especially looked forward to the planned cuisine trips we'd take the next day, after we'd had a lost rest and recuperated from jet lag. Being so young, I was bursting full of energy constantly anyways, so I believe that had some sort of hand in keeping the jet lag to a minimum, if at all.

 

"We soon found a hotel, and checked in. My parents went to put our luggage up in our room, but I slipped away and went sight-seeing. Impatient, as any child of my age would've been, I snuck out past the front desk and into the night, glancing about  streets. There were some vendors open, and I had thought that I could get to know what delicacies Japan had to offer. Some of the vendors sold street food including ramen noodles, udon, and my personal favourite of yakitori."

 

Kyo felt his stomach grumbled. The mention of Sonic's favourite of grilled chicken on sticks made him uncomfortably aware of how hungry he was. Sonic chuckled. "I'm sure we can find grilled chicken somewhere in Sicily. Come on, my treat."

 

A quarter of an hour later found them at a nice Italian restaurant, where grilled chicken just so happened to be on the menu; Sonic ordered some plain, thin skewer sticks as well. They had chosen a booth, with a window looking out onto a clear view of the sky. Kyo dug in as soon as his plate arrived, and Sonic simultaneously resumed his gaze at the heavens and his story.

 

"As I was saying, I had been scoping out the vendors, and trying to secure some free samples so I'd know what was good enough to show to my father the next day. Most of them shooed me away, annoyed at my inability to understand their language and, more importantly, the fact that I was broke. By that time, I was legitimately hungry, and wondering whether or not I should head back to the hotel. I was about to head back, when I saw an elderly vendor gesture for me to come over. Curious, I obeyed, and he greeted me with a smile, and handed me a couple of yakitori sticks. I was confused, wondering if he expected me to pay, but he seemed to know what I was thinking and shook his head, smiling politely.

 

"Grateful for his generosity, I ate enthusiastically, chomping gleefully on the grilled chicken." A faint smile came to Sonic's face, as he recounted his tale, resting his chin on his palm, fingers curled. "He said nothing to me, and I said nothing to him. We may have been separated by a language barrier, but we were also bonded by his act of generosity and humane kindness. Most of the other vendors turned me down without so much as a second glance, but that yakitori vendor accepted me with a warm smile and even warmer food. I remember feeling very grateful, very happy that such kindness was possible."

 

Sonic picked up one of the make-shift yakitori sticks on Kyo's plate, eating it leisurely as his eyes stared off into the heavens, into the past. Once finished, he once more placed his chin upon his finger-curled palm, staring out towards the brilliant night sky.

 

"It was then I decided I'd best go back to the hotel. I had memorized the way back, as my memory has always been quite superb, even at such a young age. Before I could, however, I accidentally bumped into a white-suited man, his jacket worn like a coat hanging off his shoulders. His black tie had a white skull motif on it, and instantly I knew this man was dangerous. Glancing about, almost all the vendors instantly closed up shop, and drew their blinds and locked their doors. All of them, that is, except the yakitori vendor who had given me the chicken for free. He simply looked on, his friendly smile still on his face.

 

"I wondered who this man was to be able to smile at such a dangerous man unashamedly; why hadn't he hidden and closed up his shop like the rest of them? In hindsight, I consider that a stupid question. I should've realized this man was different the moment he, unlike the others, displayed some kindness and gave me something to eat when I was hungry. There was something special about him. He was different from the rest, for the better.

 

"My parents arrived then, relief on their face, racing towards me. My mother hugged me, nearly in tears, terrified at all that could have happened to me when I wasn't in her sight. She was the type to smother their children, and I always found it odd how she could be upset at what could have happened even when she knew that they hadn't. She worried too much, but I suppose that's what mothers were for, and it meant they cared. I should've given her worry some more appreciation, especially for her care of me while I still had the chance."

 

Kyo had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do the yakitori he had just eaten.

 

"I would later learn that the man I had bumped into was a Yakuza member. The Yakuza like to call themselves ninkyo dantai.”

 

“Chivalrous organizations,” Kyo supplied. That title was hardly fitting; he felt the hot grip of anger, furious at the Yakuza for Hatsumomo’s kidnapping.

 

Sonic nodded. “Often, their actions are anything but chivalrous. Some say chivalry is dead; it certainly is to the Yakuza. His name was Ryuusuke. At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about, as I did not understand Japanese; only my mother, Ryuusuke, and the yakitori vendor were able to have that conversation. I was able to memorize the words I had heard, however, and only much later would I be able to recreate the conversation and understand what had happened that night. He made a fuss about how I had scuffed his shoes, which were as white as they could've been; there was no indication of any damage to his pristine dress shoes. Nevertheless, Ryuusuke felt the need to demand compensation, a cruel leer on his sinister face.

 

"His compensation was nothing short of demonic. For the inexcusable act of supposedly damaging his shoes, I was to be punished. His foot snaked out, catching me under the jaw and quickly again in the stomach. He glanced down at me as I flew across the street, hands in his pockets and that leer still present on his face. My father was instantly at my side, cradling me in his arms. My mother ran forward, placing her hands far out to the sides, fingers splayed out, barring Ryuusuke's path to me. She was shouting at him in Japanese, questioning who he thought he was to attack her child like that, and that she would never forgive him for his heartless behaviour. She went on to say that she thought the Japanese should be better than that, and that his actions went against such basic Japanese values like duty, sacrifice, and loyalty. It was his duty to be kind and welcoming, especially to foreigners, and throughout her entire reprimand of him, he laughed. He just stood there, chuckling loudly, no doubt thinking her to be a foolish woman.

 

"'Who am I?'" Ryuusuke had asked, his eyes widening in tandem with his jeering grin. "'Who are you to speak Japanese? You know nothing of our culture, our language, our customs. You have no place here. Who am I? That is not for you to question. But nevertheless, gaijin, I will answer your question.' My mother had narrowed her eyes at him defiantly, displeased with his insulting her being a foreigner. 'I am Ryuusuke, The Dragon Usurper, and I shall have that which I demand. What should I claim? Should I make you my concubine? A gaijin to please me, amongst all the other native women here? Maybe I should have your husband drowned slowly and torturously, leaving you with no choice but to watch him gasp piteously for his last breath?' His eyes had narrowed maliciously, staring daggers at my horrified mother before him. 'Or perhaps I should kill your child before your disgustingly wide eyes, gaijin? Would you like to see your child die, piece by piece, and fed to you like yakitori? Perhaps that would teach you gaijin respect?'"

 

Kyo coughed on his yakitori, spitting it up. Sonic gazed at him for a moment, still smiling, and said, "Oh no, don't worry, that didn't happen, obviously, as you can see that I'm still right here. Go ahead and finish your yakitori."

 

He nodded, coughing to clear his throat of the little piece of yakitori he had almost choked on. "What happened next?" he asked, voice raspy from the choking.

 

"My mother was scared beyond her wits. 'No!' she screamed, her shriek ripping through the night. Despite that, not a single person came to help her; they knew that after hours was the Yakuza's time to walk the streets. Ryuusuke responded by lifting his white, leather clad foot and striking out, hitting my mother at the base of her lower left jaw. With the momentum of his leg, her head was forced to turn to the upper right, unable to stop herself. A sharp crack resulted, and mother slumped to the ground. Ryuusuke simply glared down at her, wicked grin twisting his features, hissing, 'Don't raise your voice to me, gaijin.'

 

"Even more than mother had been, I was scared beyond belief. I hadn't exactly mastered the control of my bladder yet, as well, since I was just a young little boy. You can imagine what happened, as I stared disbelievingly at my mother, slumped on the ground as she was, unresponsive. I shrugged off my father's embrace, for he was shaken to the core with surprise at what had transpired to his wife. I ran to mother, shaking her by the shoulders. At first, I thought her jaw was broken. But when I placed my hand on her cheek, to make her face me, her head slumped independently over her neck. Even at that tender age, I knew. She was dead."

 

Sonic paused for a moment, his gaze holding firm onto Kyo's eyes this time. "Father knew she was dead too. Ryuusuke felt no remorse, aside from lamenting that he could no longer use the ’gaijin’ as a concubine, also remarking that he did know a man who was into the darker aspects of sex. He was referring to necrophilia."

 

Kyo felt instantly disgusted. He held his tongue, eyes flickering between Sonic's turquoise ones to see if he could detect any change. Sonic's smile still held firm on his face, leaving Kyo thoroughly nonplussed.

 

"I didn't know what to do. Tears came of their own volition, and I recall feeling an overwhelming amount of sadness before it disappeared. I just felt...numb. I suppose it was my mind's way of sparing myself such incredible hurt. The man who owned the yakitori shop remained smiling, but in his eyes blazed a fury. I had never seen someone so angry, especially when their anger was expressed solely through their gaze.

 

"'Ryuu-chan, you pig-headed child. What reason have you to attack the woman? What reason have you to harm the child? What reason have you to take away that man's wife and that child's mother? What made you like this?'"

 

Ryuusuke sneered at the man. "'The world, Dai-jii. The world made me like this. The Yakuza made me like this. Ever since that damned Hitoshi Matsumoto took my own parents from me. What reason have I to care for others' parents when I lost mine to a Yakuza thug? Why must I suffer alone?'" His leer widened to impossible standards. "'That's a trick question, Daisuke-san. I mustn't.' He tilted his head, and looked towards me, and I met his gaze, paralyzed with fear to the spot. This was not the gaze of a man. It was the gaze of a monster."

 

Kyo felt fear grip him as well, but he kept silent to let Sonic continue the story on his own terms.

 

"Old man Daisuke wasn't having it.'Then you should know best why you should not do the same!' Daisuke-jii burst out, his temperament flaring fiercely for a brief moment, before he reigned in his anger. 'You know the hurt felt by those who lose their parents, the pain that is caused by a murdering Yakuza thug! Did I not raise you better than that, when you were but a boy, wandering the streets covered in the blood of your parents? Did I not feed and shelter you, as miserable a sight as you were, because you had nothing to eat, nowhere else to go? Did I not show you compassion and kindness, and raise you as though you were my own, the son I received from the gods to alleviate the sense of loss from my own son Taichi's death? Did I not give you everything you needed, and treat you with kindness and fairness? And yet you see fit to perpetuate the cycle that that damned Hitoshi Matsumoto had started? How big a fool must you be to not learn from your mistakes?

 

"'The pain you felt, you think it makes you special? You think it makes you unable to be understood by the world, unable to have anyone realize the burden you're carrying? Did I not realize it, and take you in despite you being an utter stranger to me? That pain does not make you special, Ryuu-chan. Being able to withstand it, and not succumb to it is what would have made you special. But you failed miserably, my son, and served only to further your own hate onto an innocent boy's family. He will have to live with the fact that he can no longer return to his mother, that she is no longer amongst the living, unable to provide comfort or support or love. All because of your anger, your problems, your hatred. Is this the sweet and sorrowful boy I raised? Is this the man he became? I can only blame myself, Ryuu-chan, for your behaviour. I should've give you more attention, more love, more of a supportive shoulder.' Daisuke-jii had calmed down then, his voice becoming rather solemn and quiet. 'Perhaps then you wouldn't have walked down this dark and dangerous path. Even now, I fear for your safety, for Hitoshi Matsumoto is the most dangerous man in all of Asia.'

 

"Ryuusuke seemed oddly silent during Daisuke-jii's reprimand, but his last few words seemed to snap the man out of his temporary silence. 'You fear for my safety!? Bullshit! My safety is still endangered every second Hitoshi Matsumoto lives! If you truly feared for me, as you say, you would do something with your useless life, and kill Hitoshi instead of selling that f*****g yakitori! Until the day that Hitoshi is dead, I shall do as I please, and that means killing gaijins!'

 

"In an instant, he had appeared before my father, who had been staring blankly at his wife. Ryuusuke's leg was raised high above his head, supreme arrogance possessed him, and my father looked up at him lifelessly, doing nothing to prevent what happened next. With a sickening crunch comparable to that which had occurred after my mother's neck had been broken, Ryuusuke's leg came crashing down, heel first, straight into my father's skull. The momentum carried dad's face straight towards the paved road below, and Ryuusuke's heel did not stop there. My father's head split open, in a rather unpleasant explosion of gory bits, and Ryuusuke's fine leather shoes were bathed in blood. A portion of his face was covered in the crimson liquid as well, and it served to make him look all the more deranged. I have never seen anyone look more demonic in my life than he had at that moment. Both my parents had been murdered before my very own eyes. I was six."

 

Kyo felt as though this wasn't exactly dinner-appropriate conversation. He also questioned why Sonic was still capable of smiling despite recounting how his parents had been brutally murdered.

 

"As I said, it was thanks to my excellent memory that I was able to understand what they were saying a long time later after mastering Japanese. Back then, I was confused and wondered why this happened. Had it all been because I supposedly stepped on his shoes, as I would later learn he claimed? Had it all been my fault? Were the murders of my mother and father solely on my head?  Would everything have been different if I had stayed in the hotel with my parents instead of trying to impress my father and venturing out on the streets to figure out what would be my father's favourite cuisine to eat? Would I even be here, talking to you, speaking Japanese, or working under Haruhiko-sama?" He turned his turquoise gaze once more to the twinkling stars up above. "I often wonder."

 

"How does this relate to you and Haruhiko-sama?" Kyo ventured. He still didn't see how the grumpy old man came into this.

 

"I'm getting to that. I'm not done with Ryuusuke and Daisuke-jii, however. Ryuusuke was completely consumed by his bloodlust, and made to kill me next. In the fastest single movement I've ever witnessed in my life -- or didn't witness, if you want to get technical --, Daisuke-jii intercepted Ryuusuke, a frail, wrinkled hand grasping the Yakuza thug firmly by his raised ankle. In the hand with which he grasped Ryuusuke...was a yakitori stick, which rubbed against the white fabric of the younger man's dress pants. This fact was not missed by Ryuusuke, but I thought that Daisuke-jii had a death wish. I didn't think it was possible, but Daisuke-jii displayed a controlled and poised form of bloodlust, something I didn't believe possible until I saw it in his eyes. Old man Daisuke was furious beyond belief, but he seemed to remain calm in spite of that. His next words were barely audible, and I didn't know what they meant, but they seemed to carry great power.

 

"'If you touch a single hair on this boy's head," he began, his voice a deadly whisper, "you will regret not dying with your parents.'

 

"Daisuke turned to me, then, and he pointed away. I understood myself to be dismissed, that I was to run away and not look back. I didn't know where I was to go, but I doubt Daisuke could've told me anyways. I ran away, sobbing freely, scared and tired and alone. Incredibly, inexorably, irrefutably alone. I ran, and I ran, and I ran. It didn't occur to me to return to the hotel. I just kept running, my little legs taking me somewhere I knew not, and I found myself in a dinky, deserted alleyway. I rested there, chest heaving, crying my little heart out and sore all over. I was alone in a foreign place, unable to speak the language, and unable to differentiate between friend and foe. As far as I was aware, anyone could've been a bad man, like Ryuusuke. No one was eager to help out the lost little foreign boy, cry as he might -- I highly doubt it was solely because of the language barrier, surely someone must've spoken English? No one seemed to care, however. I simply cried and cried, not knowing what else to do. Everything was too much. It wasn't long before my cries attracted someone: a middle-aged man, bespectacled, and easily irritable."

 

"Haruhiko-sama." Kyo said the name instantly, realizing where Sonic was going with this.

 

"Yes, Haruhiko-sama knelt before me. He first spoke to me in Japanese, perhaps out of habit, before realizing that I probably didn't know it. 'Cease your crying, child,' he said to me, his first words and the first words I had heard in English since I had come to Japan. I was stunned, to the point I actually did stop crying mid-sob. 'Good,' he said, 'now why are you crying? Where are your parents? What is your name?'

 

"I told him my name was Sonic Snowdrift, and the reason I was crying was because a man in a white-suit had just killed my mother and father, and Haruhiko-sama had a troubling look on his face. 'Yakuza,' he said, eyebrows furrowing. 'Very bad men. You should stay away from them. Why are you in Japan?'

 

"'Because we were supposed to be on vacation and mommy wanted to sightsee and daddy wanted to try the food and I went to a vendor to see food and impress daddy for tomorrow but that bad man killed mommy and daddy and the chicken man stopped him from killing me and told me to ran away so I did and I'm here and you're here and I lost my mommy and daddy!' I blathered on, unable to stop myself, pouring out all my feelings and thoughts to this strange man. It was then I lost my temporary composure, and started crying loudly again.

 

"'Shhh! Do you want the Yakuza to find us? Do you want the bad man to find you and kill you?' Those words managed to get me to slow down my sobbing to a sniffle, crying silently to myself. 'Be quiet! You need to leave as soon as possible. If your parents are dead, then you need to live with another relative. I can send you back to where you came from, and you will be safe far away from the Yakuza. Where are you from?'

 

"'C-C-Canada,' I sniffled, rubbing at my eyes to get at the tears. 'Auntie Lorraine lives in Ontario, in Torando, I think.'

 

"'Toronto,' he corrected, and straightened up, holding out his hand to me. 'Your Auntie Lorraine lives in Toronto. I can send you back there, in a few days. Where are you staying?'

 

"'A-At the hotel, I don't know the name. I know where it is, though.' And so I led him back to the hotel, through a maze of alleyways and streets, half an hour from where the hotel had been located. Haruhiko-sama seemed impressed that I managed to find my way back to the hotel without assistance and unable to read signs -- they would've been useless, anyways, since I didn't know how to read or speak Japanese at the time. He led me inside and spoke to the hotel lobby receptionist, his Japanese fluent and firm. The woman seemed scared the moment he had entered the hotel, especially since she seemed to have recognized me from earlier; I doubt it would be hard to remember perhaps the only Caucasian child she'd seen that day. After a few words were exchanged, and minor protests from her, she handed Haruhiko a room key, who in turn handed it to me.

 

"'You now have an entire top penthouse suite to yourself, with all the luxurious commodities, for a week. During that time, I shall work to get ready all the necessary papers to send you back home, and to your Auntie Lorraine. Come, I will show you to your room.' With that he grasped my small hand firmly once more, and we traveled to the twelfth floor, the highest floor of the hotel with a single, massive pent suite occupying the entire floor. I was excited for a half second, before realizing that the suite would feel incredibly empty because of the lack of my parents' presence. Haruhiko-sama had me change, bathe, and tucked into bed, assuring me that he would take care of everything. I felt incredibly sleepy, and Haruhiko-sama left soon after.

 

"However, something felt wrong. My parents were no longer alive, and no adults were responsible for me anymore, which meant I had no one to rely on. I had just met Haruhiko-sama, and I didn't know if I could trust him. Certainly, he was kind in his own abrasive way, but the receptionist had looked at him with such fear in her eyes. What was that all about? Was he somehow in relation to the Yakuza? He did seem to know a lot about him, especially from my mediocre description of a man in a "white-suit". I couldn't let this rest. So, tired as I was, I snuck out of bed and put on some shoes, content with the clothes I was wearing, and sought to follow Haruhiko-sama.

 

"Down the elevator and through the lobby I went, spotted only by the hotel receptionist. Fear widened her eyes, and she called out to me, no doubt pleading for me to return to my room. I didn't understand her, of course, and I didn't care. She seemed to have been tasked with making sure I stayed in my room and didn't go wandering off, but I was already out the door by the time she stepped out from behind the reception desk. The look on her face as I ran out the door had been pure terror, and I almost felt bad for her. That didn't matter at that moment, however. Out into the night I ran, searching for Haruhiko-sama.

 

"Soon after, it occurred to me that perhaps it wasn't the best idea to run full out after him. If he caught me, he would send me back; already I knew the stubborn kind of man he would be. So, upon spotting him walking down the street the way we had come, I took to following him like a shadow, silent and swift. Every time I got that weird fuzzy feeling, I would duck behind the nearest corner. I think he nearly saw me a few times, but they all seemed to be close calls. After quite a while of walking, we had returned to the deserted alleyway upon which he had first found me crying. There was a shiny door with an eye slot."

 

"Haruhiko-sama's lair!" Kyo gasped, remembering the path he and Takamura had taken to visit Haruhiko, where they had first encountered Sonic. He should've known! Sonic did say that his family had landed in Tokyo at the Haneda Airport, and he and Takamura had just met Haruhiko there a few days ago.

 

Sonic nodded. "Yes, Haruhiko-sama's headquarters. Back then, just the name of the Yakuza was enough to inspire fear, so there was no need for doors to be locked at night; it was assumed that if a man or woman came to the lair of any Yakuza member, they came with the intention to not leave. At least alive, that is. Haruhiko-sama simply turned the handle of the door, entering with no assistance. I waited a minute before getting too impatient, and opening the door myself. I entered the corridor, noting how creepy the wide hall was with the darkness only being kept at bay by the blazing torches in the sconces lining the wall.

 

"The flickering light source played wicked tricks on the six year-old boy I was, especially since they alternated between bathing the creepy statues of creatures in light or hiding them in the darkness, ready to pounce upon me at any time. Oni, Dragons, Demons, Witches, Wolves, Gorgons, and Gargoyles. Back then, there were even statues of Vampires and Chimeras, but they managed to freak out even Haruhiko-sama, so he had them removed and hidden from sight. Imagine how terrifying it would've been for me, a little boy, to go through that. Especially since the statues seemed so life-like, obsidian-eyes sparkling, and I was incredibly tired, which made it worse. Despite that, however, I braved my fears and trudged past those monstrosities, following Haruhiko-sama deeper and deeper into the corridor.

 

"I was banking on the shadows hiding me from sight should Haruhiko-sama turn to look, so I continued on forward, unstopping. He finally reached the end, and I watched as he began to breathe fire into the demonic dragon's mouth, the eyes changing from obsidian to a blazing red. He grasped the dragon's large nose ring that served as the knocker, and pulled, entering the door. A few minutes later, he appeared once more -- I hid behind the statues that lined the corridor, swallowing my disgust for them and hiding in their welcoming darkness. He left the corridor altogether, going out the door from whence he came. I waited a few more minutes, just to make sure. I was greeted with an unbearable eerie, creepy silence that I couldn't bear any longer. I stepped out from underneath the cover of the shadows, and went to the door. It was locked. I managed to climb up a particularly gruesome statue of Medusa, and fetch a torch from the wall. Realizing I was way too short to reach the door dragon's mouth, I struggled with pushing a statue into place.

 

"It took a lot of work, and it left me even sorer than I had been, but I finally managed to do it. Climbing up the Medusa statue once more, I placed the torch in the door dragon's mouth, and blew on it a little, hoping it would accept the fire. Lucky for me, it did, as the eyes began to glow that brilliant scarlet once more. I placed the torch's handle between my teeth, climbing down the Medusa. I'd have to move it out of the way to have room for the door to open. But I also needed the statue to be high enough to pull on the handle. Pushing it out of the way an ample amount, I managed to grasp the handle and pulled with all my miniscule might. I don't know how I did it, but I did. Pushing the Medusa back into place, so that Haruhiko-sama wouldn't realize I had been here, I then pulled on the door and entered the room.

 

"Simply put, the room was massive. Black on black on black, everything from the curtains to the carpet, all pure black. It made the room seem unwelcoming and sinister. The ivory pillars that he has now were originally black, with the only thing offering a contrast to all the black was the white, flowing dragon above the dark, obsidian canopy.  I gasped, surprised. But I was more interested in the books. I knew they were in Japanese, but some were in English, French, Spanish, Chinese, German, Italian, and a plethora of other languages. I even spotted some Latin, Swahili, even a rarity like Somali, and they caught my interest. There were so many books, and I never had many books back at home because we didn't have much money. My mother would sometimes bring math books and textbooks, but rarely anything aside from that. I saw some math books as well, which was just as well. Math, unlike language, was universal. If nothing else, I could at least do those. But I figured that the most important thing was to learn Japanese, since I was in Japan.

 

"As I reached for a book, a hand snatched mine by the wrist. I was taken by surprise, expecting to see Haruhiko-sama angry beyond belief, but I was further taken aback when I realized it was the hotel receptionist! She had followed me there, and was still scared out of her wits, disbelieving of the fact she had snuck into a Yakuza lair to retrieve a foreign little boy she had been tasked to act the warden for. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she placed a finger over her lips, forming the "shush!" motion, and pulling me by the wrist. She was murmuring things in Japanese, what I would later understand to be 'This boy will be the death of me! I don't get paid nearly enough for this. I need vacation time.'" Sonic chuckled. "With such a rambunctious and unscrupulous kid like me on her hands, I'd say she certainly deserved it.

 

"When we returned to the hotel, my unasked question of how she had managed to leave the hotel was answered: she had gotten someone else to watch the front desk while she retrieved me. She escorted me back to my suite, and bathed a very fussy me, before giving me something to eat and tucking me in. She pointed to the phone, and showed me how to dial the front desk. Since we both didn't understand each other's languages, she managed to convey that she herself would personally come up each time I called the front desk. She also pointed out a menu on the bed stand for room service, with menu items offered in Japanese and English. After that, she stood watch over me, ensuring I fell asleep, before locking the windows and the door. She knew better than to leave me to my own devices in an unsupervised environment. I fell asleep, then, and enjoyed a dreamless, heavy sleep.

 

"Despite her best efforts, however, during the course of the week, I managed to sneak out whenever she was busy with clients. I would sneak back to Haruhiko-sama's headquarters, and manage to enter his personal library whenever he wasn't around. I began to read books, assisted by one of the many 'Japanese to English' and 'English to Japanese' dictionaries I had nicked from the front desk. There were some even better editions in the library, after figuring out basic Japanese words and phrases, aided immensely by my ability to recall things with great accuracy. I would sit there, every day, for hours at a time, teaching myself Japanese, and sneaking out whenever I heard the distinctive footsteps of Haruhiko-sama, the only person to ever visit the library. By doing this, I also taught myself to be rather sneaky, which drove the hotel receptionist, Kimiko Watanabe, to such crazy lengths in desperately trying to keep me in line for fear of suffering the Yakuza's wrath. Each night, I would sneak back into the hotel and my room, and be plagued with memories of my parents' murder the whole night through."

 

Kyo felt incredibly sorry for this woman. Sonic chuckled.

 

"One day, I was once more in Haruhiko-sama's library, and he appeared behind me, questioning how I managed to enter his abode, and what I thought I was doing. I was caught by surprise; I hadn't even heard him coming. I turned slowly, and was incredulous when I saw him, not angry, but seemingly nonplussed. He walked around the table, sitting before me and gazing at me, sizing me up. So, putting my recently acquired knowledge to use, I said, 'Nani mo nai.'

 

"Haruhiko-sama looked so surprised. 'Nothing? Where did you learn Japanese? Who taught you?' I simply gestured around me, to the books on the shelves and the books on the table before me. Haruhiko-sama did something very unexpected at that moment: he laughed.

 

"'Ahahahaha! You learned this language by yourself? What are you, a child prodigy?' I shook my head, and told him I just had a really easy time remembering things. This extended to replaying the vicious killings of my parents, and Haruhiko-sama must've realized this as well. He saw something in me, gazing at me in such a way that I was unable to hold his stare. It was as though he was seeing straight through me, to my core, to everything I had been and was and would be and more. At that moment, Kimiko came rushing in, yelling for me in Japanese, only to stop dead in her tracks when she realized that Haruhiko-sama was in the room as well. She froze, fear causing her face to blanch, all colour draining from it at once, leaving her incredibly pale. 'H-H-Haruhiko-sama,' she said getting onto her knees and bowing with her entire body. 'Gomen nasai, Haruhiko-sama! Please forgive me!'

 

"'You have failed in the task I set out for you, Kimiko-san,' Haruhiko-sama had said thoughtfully, still gazing at me. 'I expected better of you.' Kimiko flinched, still prostrated towards him on the ground, and spoke tearfully. 'Gomen nasai, Haruhiko-sama! I tried my best.'

 

"'Clearly your best wasn't the best,' Haruhiko-sama remarked, his eyes piercing me to my soul. 'But don't worry. I know you tried your hardest, so I must thank you, Kimiko-san. I appreciate your hard work. You are dismissed.'

 

"'Haruhiko-sama?' Kimiko looked up, surprised and confused, her pony-tail sliding from over her shoulder once more towards her back. 'Haruhiko-sama, what of the child?'

 

"'Worry not about him. He is to be my ward. I will look after him personally. When I am unable, I shall ask that you do so, to the best of your ability. Does that seem fair?'

 

"'H-Hai, Haruhiko-sama! Arigato gozaimasu! What about the boy's aunt, Lydia? What of her? You are no longer sending him back to Canada?'

 

"'Hmm, no, I shan't. I see use for this boy, and he's very talented. I shall nurture his talent personally. He shall remain living at the hotel, however. As far as his aunt will know, her sister, brother-in-law, and nephew all died at the same time. The boy's place is here now.'

 

"Kimiko then nodded, and gave one last lingering glance at me. Politely, I waved at her and thanked her. "A-ri-ga-to!", breaking up the syllables for emphasis. She seemed surprised, but shook it off, thanking me in turn. She left, and I was left with a question for Haruhiko-sama. 'Won't Auntie Lorraine want to see the bodies, though? How will she believe I'm dead if my body is not there? They will do tests on the bodies to prove it's mine, won't they?'

 

"Haruhiko-sama then harrumphed, his glasses gleaming. 'Boy, do you realize who you are speaking to? No, you wouldn't, would you? I'll tell you: before you sits the legendary Dragon of Death. Death is no obstacle to me, nor a foe, merely a tool to achieve my own ends. There is nothing I can't do when it comes to death. And, by the time I'm done, there won't be anything you can't do either.' And so began my tutelage under Haruhiko-sama, nineteen years ago. I've worked under him ever since."

 

Something nagged him. "And what of Ryuusuke? And Daisuke-jii?"

 

Sonic was silent a moment before answering. "Ryuusuke is still around, and very much still part of the Yakuza. He just so happens to be the kumicho's right hand man. In other words, untouchable by most everyone. As for Daisuke-jii...rumour has it he was killed years ago in a dispute. They say it was ultimately Ryuusuke who did the deed. One of these days, I plan on setting up a yakitori stand in Daisuke-jii’s honour."

 

Kyo was really intrigued by the story, and now saw Sonic in a new light; he would've never guessed he had such a history, such a tumultuous past, especially since he was always smiling and polite. "How do you keep smiling?" he had to know, curiosity gnawing at the corners of his mind.

 

"Simple. The past is the past, and thus, unchangeable. The future hasn't happened yet. That leaves us with the present. You may have heard the incredibly cheesy line that "today is a gift, that's why it's called the present." That's actually rather accurate, and I choose to make the best of my day instead of fretting over that which I have no control over. I still do, sometimes, especially regarding whether or not everything would've been different if I had never left the hotel without my parents, but that's been said and done. I amuse myself with what ifs, the most bizarre of which is my parents and I yachting with a Yeti we found in the Himalayas on a previous skiing trip we no doubt would've had. I suppose the Yeti would be the souvenir that we couldn't pass up."

 

The boy sat in silence, digesting his meal and the tale he had been told. 'This should be a reminder to myself not to judge someone on looks alone, just as Mother always said. Just like I mustn't judge the kitsune to be a friend simply because of its beauty, nor too should I assume Sonic's had an easy life simply because he's constantly smiling.'

 

Kyo made to speak, but noticed that Sonic was busy speaking with the waitress, instructing her to "put it on the tab", and that her service was appreciated. The woman seemed annoyed, but did as he asked, departing to serve other tables. Sonic turned his gaze back to the stars, and Kyo followed it, locating Genji Boshi and Heike Boshi. 'Duty, Sacrifice, Loyalty. Do these mean anything to you, Father? Are you even alive anymore?'

 

"So that's where you've been!" A gruff, annoyed voice made itself heard as its owner shuffled over to the table. Haruhiko was followed by Takamura and Felipe, an impassive look on the itako's visage to counteract the grin on Felipe's. "I suggest you come with us to the hotel, as we're going to be waking up bright and early, to head to Tai Shan, the Tranquil Mountain."

 

Sonic's eyes sparkled with interest. "Ah, Sifu Lao Shi? We're going to pay him a visit? I wonder why."

 

"You'll find out soon," Haruhiko stated, "now let's head back."

They had rested up that night, each getting some much needed sleep. Early morning found them ready to begin their trek...

***

"Kyo, watch out!"

 

The teen snapped out of his daydream, and realized his predicament. They had been walking along a narrow path, and with his lack of attention, he had taken a single misstep; that was all that was needed to send him tumbling over the edge and down in the deep crevasses of the earth below. He began to fall, but was stopped by a red cloth wrapping around his waist -- Takamura's obi sash was tightened around his waist, his single lifeline to the other three. She tugged swiftly, pulling him in one movement back to the rocky pathway. She was not pleased.

 

"Pay attention, Kyo. We are almost there."

 

Kyo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, apologizing profusely; he didn’t even think to question the strength Takamura must have possessed to pull off such a feat single-handedly. Takamura tied the crimson obi sash once more around her waist. Up ahead, a lion and a lioness paced back and forth before a gate, tails flicking idly back and forth like metronomes. They looked absolutely feral, and Kyo began to feel some doubt seize him. It took him a moment to remember he was with Takamura and the others, so he was rather safe, even if he didn't feel that way. He just had to trust the others.

 

The lion and lioness caught sight of them, and bared their teeth, letting loose nigh-deafening roars while the Dragons stood before them, unflinching in their stance. It wasn't long before there was a roar that silenced even those of the lion and the lioness -- except Kyo couldn't see where it had come from. It hadn't been from his group, nor could he see any other lions. He was incredibly confused, wondering where it had come from, before he saw an incredibly large lion step forward, its grizzly mane and intelligent eyes its most prominent features. Atop this massive lion stood an incredibly short man, even shorter than Haruhiko, wispy trails of a white mustache and beard visible. His eyebrows were thick and flowing, as white as his beard. He was bald, his round head shining in the brilliant blaze of the sun overhead, and his eyes were small and clever. In a voice that belied his small stature, the man spoke in a rich, commanding tone.

 

"Who seeks to gain entrance to the exclusive and age-old tutelage and traditions of Lao Shi of the Lions, coming all the way to the Land of the Lions and asking the King of Beasts for his honourable guidance in all its wisdom?"

 

Kyo looked back at the Dragons and Sonic, all of whom looked at him expectantly. He stepped forward, facing the small man once more. "I do, Kyoji Takeshi, of Tokyo, Japan. I seek your honourable and wise tutelage, Sifu Lao Shi. Please, take me on as your student, as you have done Takamura-sama before me."

 

Sifu Lao Shi's eyes narrowed, flicking towards the only woman in the group. "Takamura-chan, you say?” His eyes hovered over her form, never staying in one place too long, looking her over as though he was comparing her to his mental image of her youth. “It has been quite some time, Takamura-chan. It seems as though you have not aged as swiftly as I had anticipated. Perhaps your youth is attributed to your penchant for saké; you always were a heavy drinker, as I recall. Saké is liquefied beauty, I always say.” His eyes darted to Kyo, his gaze hardening. “You are another of her wards? What should I care for another boy with high hopes, and miserable deliverance? For what reason should I take you on?"

 

It was Takamura who spoke now. "If you take him on, it shall be as a favour to Yakuma-sama. This is a matter of the utmost importance, and has been dictated by the prophecy. You are the only one, Sifu Lao Shi, who can prepare him for the role he is to play in this game."

 

'Role in this game?' Kyo wondered, curious what she was talking about. He held his tongue, though.

 

Sifu Lao Shi's eyes widened at the mention of the name Yakuma, and then narrowed nearly instantly, focusing upon the boy. "You wish for me to take you on as a student? Very well, so be it. There is, however, a condition."

 

"Yes, Sifu Lao Shi?" Kyo asked, excited that he was getting a chance denied to so many.

 

Sifu Lao Shi's eyes shone with a wicked gleam, as the lion and the lioness reared up, pouncing towards the teen.

 

"You must defeat my familiars."